Anger Management
by Drawing On Converse
Summary: Annabeth has what some might call 'anger management issues'. Don't say that to her face though, unless you enjoy being punched. When Annabeth got mad, she liked to get violent. And when Annabeth got violent, people got hurt.


Annabeth had what some might call _anger management issues._

(Don't say that to her face though, unless you like being punched.)

When she was mad, which happened fairly often, she clenched her teeth and her cheekbones flushed. If you didn't know her, it was easy to miss, but any seasoned camper knew that when Annabeth's face looked like a rose to _run_. Preferably several miles away. Because Annabeth didn't like to talk about her pent up emotions, or to confront the person upsetting her. Annabeth liked to get violent.

And when Annabeth got violent, people got hurt.

She would storm into the training arena and break shins with well-aimed kicks, instigate internal bleeding with elbows to the gut, cause concussions with a dagger hilt… You get the idea. After nearly 30 demigods visiting the infirmary and several formal complaints to Mr. D (ignored, of course), Chiron decided to take action. He trotted into his office to find Annabeth sitting ramrod straight in the guest chair with her ankles crossed and hair curling perfectly around her face. The highly polished dagger twirling idly around her slim fingers diminished this picturesque image of a princess. Chiron moved to stand behind his desk, tail flicking nervously.

"Annabeth, it has come to my attention that you have been endangering other campers," he started. The ten-year-old raised her eyebrows.

"We're demigods. We are constantly in danger, Chiron," she stated. Chiron took a deep breath.

"True as that may be, child, it is in everyone's best interests to avoid unnecessary injuries. Thus far, five ulnas, one femur, three humerus, one clavicle and an elbow have been broken by you in the training arena. That is not to mention the thirteen concussions-" At this point, Annabeth cut the centaur off.

"Are you counting Sherman as a concussion? He is _such_ a drama queen. It was only a little lump; his skull is too thick to do any _real_ damage-" It was Chiron's turn to interrupt Annabeth's rant.

"Enough, Annabeth!" She fell silent at his sharp tone. "Demigods are getting seriously hurt! I realize that it may be unavoidable when a monster attacks you, but this camp is supposed to be _safe_. On or two injuries can be written off as mistakes, however, when the numbers reach this level, I have to take action. You need to find a new way to release your anger, or I will be forced to ban you from training. And if the incidents continue, then I am afraid you will be sent home."

"What! Chiron, you can't! You know that this is my home," Annabeth rose out of her chair in protest. Chiron let out a heavy sigh, and his age became more apparent in the lines on his face.

"I'm sorry dear. You know I do not want that, either. It would be rendered moot if the injuries stopped, however. If you appreciate the advice of an ancient centaur, I would recommend finding another medium to express anger in." As Annabeth stormed out of the room, cheeks flushed and eyes fiery, Chiron slumped his shoulders and ran a hand across his face. After shaking his head, he straightened and returned to work.

OoooooOoooooO

Annabeth stormed out of the Big House, her strides echoing through the hallway. If she hadn't been moving so fast, she might have noticed Dionysus rolling his eyes while popping the can to a Diet Coke. As it was, she stomped down the stairs, past the volleyball courts (everyone scattered) and right through the middle of a pick-up basketball game (disbanded shortly thereafter). She was veering dangerously close to the camp's eastern borders when she caught a glimpse of tan out of her peripheral vision. Spinning on her heel, Annabeth realized that there was a small sand pit plopped in the field of green. Not many campers ventured this far off the beaten path, but Annabeth was still surprised she had never noticed the slightly rusty metal pole with a dirty tetherball hanging from it. The rope was fraying, and it just looked so _hopeless_ that Annabeth wanted to yell, "Cheer up!" at it. The basketball courts were only a couple hundred yards away, though, and the last thing she needed was Chiron claiming she had mental issues as well as anger issues.

Annabeth bit down on her lips, hard. She tilted her head back so that the tears wouldn't fall out of her eyes. After Thalia died, Annabeth promised that she would stay strong to make Thals proud. She hadn't cried once in three years, and she refused to break her streak just because some addled _horse _decided she had anger management issues.

_Like it was my fault Clarisse called me a dumb blonde… or that the Stoll brothers put fake spiders in my bunk… or that Drew dyed my shampoo hot pink… Anyone would be mad! Everyone goes out of their way to piss me off. Gods, it's not like I killed anyone! Chiron needs to get his godsdamn priorities straight. _

Annabeth had worked herself into a rage. She sprinted at the stupid, dilapidated tetherball and whacked it as hard as she could. It whipped around the pole, causing her to jump back to avoid a broken nose. Drew would never shut up about that.

Watching the ball make a perfect orbit around the pole was almost hypnotizing. When it started to dip lower, Annabeth slapped it again in the opposite direction. The coils of rope unraveled as the ball flew the other way.

Annabeth had no idea how long she stood there, hitting a muddy ball, but the dinner conch shook her out of the trance she was in. She grabbed the ball as it swung past her and placed it down gently against the chipping pole.

As she sprinted back to her cabin to go eat, Annabeth realized she had found "another medium to express anger in". So what if it also involved hitting things? It was secluded, and fun, and satisfying, and just…

Tetherball.

**Author's Note:  
Got to love an angry Annabeth! I know all my other stories should be updated, but I **_**am**_** getting my PhD in procrastinating. It's going along swimmingly. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! Leave me a review, and if I'm feeling energetic, I'll reply. (Great incentive, I am aware.)**


End file.
